Life with You
by Helatreia
Summary: A collection of Thiefshipping drabble, nothing too serious.
1. Steak

When Marik awoke, he found the room cold and silent. Bakura usually slept later than he did, and on the occasions he did get up earlier he was usually making a commotion somewhere else in the apartment. The quietness bothered Marik more than any amount of noise. He rolled over and stood up, the cool floorboards a shock to his feet after the warmth of the soft bed. As he trudged out of the room, the front door opened and closed again with a slam. Bakura came into view, dumped something in a plastic bag onto the kitchen counter and proceeded to go about his business as noisily as always.  
Marik yawned, attempting to clear the last of the morning fog from his mind before asking, "Where were you?"  
Bakura only briefly glanced in his direction before answering, "Getting something to eat." He unwrapped whatever had been in the bags, but Marik couldn't see what it was from where he stood.  
"We have plenty of food."  
"But no steak," Bakura amended with a grin.  
"I don't like steak very much, and besides, it's too early in the morning." Marik paused to yawn again before adding, "Also, it's expensive."  
"I never said I paid for it, and it's always time for a decent filet mignon. Have you ever even had good steak?"  
"Once… I think." Beef was all well and good, especially in tacos, but the few experiences he'd had with steak were average at best. It had the tendency to leave a bad taste in his mouth. On top of that, Marik wasn't sure Bakura could even cook. On second thought, he probably couldn't. He liked his steak bloody rare, maybe still half alive. Marik, on the other hand, preferred his meat dead before he ate it. "I can't stand it bloody. Make mine well done."  
Bakura shot him a poisonous look. "No way. If you can't handle rare, I'll compromise at medium-rare. It's already dead, there's no need to kill it twice."  
It wasn't much of a compromise. Marik couldn't possibly win this argument since Bakura was the one cooking, so he resigned himself to waiting at the table, watching the white-haired man attack the meat with a large knife that also wasn't in his possession the previous day. Marik highly doubted he had paid for it either. The apartment was littered with Bakura's 'acquisitions' from here and there, but despite the questionable legality of his way of obtaining things he never failed to get what he wanted and always got away with it. Marik's thoughts wandered for a while until breakfast was served with the slamming of two plates onto the table.  
Steak with a fried egg thrown haphazardly on top was not Marik's idea of a typical breakfast, but Bakura seemed to be enjoying it, and it did look pretty appetizing. However, a warm meal on a cold morning for someone who's practically starving is enticing practically no matter what it is.  
Marik sliced a piece of meat and ate it. It wasn't that bad. He scarfed down a couple more pieces. Actually, it was rather good. Bakura had long since devoured his bloody rare steak and was now watching the blonde eat. It took a while for Marik to finish, since he didn't share Bakura's animalistic eating style, but when he did, Bakura was waiting with a questioning gaze.  
"Wasn't too bad." It was close to a lie, the steak had been fantastic.  
Bakura's face split in a smile, showing off his bloody canine teeth. "Glad you liked it."

**Steak should never be cooked past medium rare. Seriously, it's already dead. But each to their own, I suppose. Also, I've seen a lot of fics where Marik's vegetarian and it's supposedly cannon, but I just can't... no. Sorry. Besides, in the Abridged series, Marik ****_not_**** being a vegetarian is canon. So there.**


	2. Kitten

Marik hurried in the door, closing it quickly behind him. He glanced furtively around before sneaking towards Bakura napping in the living room in attempts to go around him. He was hoping Bakura wouldn't notice the large bulge in his shirt that was a kitten he had picked up. Of course, Marik would have to tell him sooner or later, but later was always better. Bakura awoke, but didn't paying him much mind other than a offhand greeting before closing his eyes once again, and Marik would have gotten away with it if the cat hadn't chosen this moment to let out a tiny cry. Marik froze.  
Bakura opened his eyes and looked around, trying to determine the source of the noise. The apartment was otherwise silent, there shouldn't have been any strange noises.  
The kitten meowed again.  
"Marik, is your chest… meowing?"  
"No! That's ridiculous, I just… was… practicing animal noises! Meow!" The actual cat had other ideas though, and began to wail for attention as it crawled up and out of Marik's shirt.  
Bakura ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. "It's a bloody cat! What are you going to do with it?"  
"Keep it! It was just sitting on the side of the street, looking so pitiful… It reminded me of you."  
"A pathetic creature you found on the side of the road reminded you of _me_?" From his tone of voice, it was clear that Bakura didn't find the statement flattering in the least. He crossed his arms and glared at Marik from the couch. Between his pale skin and white hair, he practically blended in to the white sofa. If it wasn't for the blue stripes on his shirt, he'd be easy to miss.  
"You both have white hair, and he's a kitty and you're my Kitty…"  
Bakura wasn't one for sentimentality. "I'm not a kitty, for the last time, Marik. And I don't want some helpless animal crawling all over the apartment or making a mess. I am not cleaning up after it. You understand?"  
Marik, ever the optimist, took this to mean he could keep the cat as long as it stayed out of Bakura's way. Marik's face lit up like a child on Christmas day as he smiled at his new pet. "What should we name him? How about… Snowball!"  
"That's the stupidest name I've ever heard!" He sounded exasperated. "At least name the damn thing something reasonable."  
Marik pouted for a minute, holding the tiny cat up in the air and staring at it while it meowed incessantly. He mumbled names under his breathe trying to find one that fit.  
"Holy Ra! Can't you make that thing shut up?"  
"I'll name him Fluffy!" Marik exclaimed, completely disregarding Bakura's appeal. He plopped down on the couch next to Bakura, and smiled mischievously as he placed the kitten on top of Bakura's hair. The spirit looked seriously peeved, but said nothing.  
"So why'd you agree to keep him?" Marik prodded.  
"Emergency food supply."


End file.
